Camouflaged
by KelsArchive
Summary: Ami "with an 'i'" Davis has been plagued with the title "new kid" for the last month. And when a certain big-lipped blondie, Sam Evans, moves into town, she's going to have a lot more trouble keeping her important secrets. But what are those secrets?
1. Chapter 1: Slushied

** Hello, Lovelies. I'm glad to see that you've decided to give me a chance with this one. I look forward to hearing what you think in the reviews. And thanks for reading this even though the main character's an original. I've kind of fallen in love with this one, it feels really promising. I hope to see you in the next chapter, ya? I'm sure that as it goes on, it'll get better. This is a sort of snarky main character, which is always fun, right? Thank you in advance for the review, it really means a lot to me to hear from you. I like to know if you've enjoyed my chapter. It has never and will never fail to put a smile on my face. And that's what's important, isn't it? A smile. So if this makes you smile, even a little, review. A smile for a smile. That's what makes us beautiful, isn't it? The ability to make each other beautiful. Because it's true beauty, a smile, it's true because smiles are real. Reality is beautiful, really. Raw and beautiful.**

** Disclaimer: I don't own Glee but Ami and the plotline are mine.**

** Potential typo warning!**

** DFTBA and Best Wishes,**

** KelseyDockry**

"Hey, you that new kid?" A harsh and annoying voice cut through the bustling hallway.

"Yeah, I guess. My name's Sam, Sam Evans," the blond boy said to Karofsky, a friendly smile pulling at his full lips. I lounged back against the locker next to mine, staring at him and praying to God that he wouldn't notice my lingering eyes. There was something about him, something special. Maybe it was because he'd taken my title, 'New Kid', after I'd been plagued with it for the last month. It was worse than my middle school transfers, it was. The blond boy, Sam, flipped his hair again.

"You joined Glee club?" Azimio asked.

"Yeah, Glee and Foo-" I saw Karofsky raise a plastic cup. This wouldn't end well. I pushed away from the locker and slammed mine shut, half running and half being trampled by the overcrowded hallway. "t ball."

I was about one point eight seconds too late. By the time I'd gotten there, just across the hall from my locker, next to the Choir Room, Dave was already lowering the cup and the boy's hair was dripping red. His white t-shirt was stained beyond recognition, thank God he'd put his football jacket in his still-open locker.

"Karofsky," I called, grabbing the wrist attached to the cup-wielding culprit, "what the hell, man?" All of the color drained from his face.

"What's wrong, Davis? Don't like Karofsky pickin' on your little Lady-lips?" Azimio said, stepping closer and towering over my five foot four nothingness.

"I've _never_ talked to him," I looked back at Karofsky, "and you haven't either. Why are you such a dick, Karofsky?"

He wrenched his arm back and I gave it up the second I felt it tug, glad to stop touching him. "Whatever," he muttered before grabbing his big-bad henchman by the bicep and pulled him through the crowd, knocking some freshman out of their dazes on the way. I heard Azimio try to assure Karofsky that it didn't matter what I said, it shouldn't affect him.

I huffed before turning to the still-shocked blond and gave him a smile. "Hey, sorry about them, they can be real jerks sometimes."

"Yeah, I caught that," he said, returning the smile and rubbing at his eyes that were no-doubt burning like hell.

Sympathy caught in my throat and I suppressed a sigh. "It's the dye, you'll be fine in a second. Follow me," I said, looking at him for one more second before turning through the choir room. I walked past the drum set and the tall trophy into the room that doubled as a bathroom and a changing room for whatever Glee had to do next. I lead him in and closed the door behind me, sitting him down on the bench. I went over and picked through the cubbies.

"The Glee club keeps extra clothes in here for cases such as this," I said to him, pulling out a gray _Property of McKinley High Phys Ed Department_ shirt and tossing it to him. "That's an extra, belongs to nobody, and seems to be just your size. Lucky you."

He looked up at me, eyes a shade of ocean blue. "Thanks," he said.

"I'm Ami, by the way. Ami with an 'I', not a 'y', full name's Amiabelle. Yeah I know, stupid name, my mother is freaking crazy. But I figured Ami was better than Bella, what with that name being tainted by hordes of fangirls." He didn't look away or move during all of that, blue eyes glued to me. "I kind of talk a lot when I'm intimidated by silence so feel free to jump in any damn time here."

"Sam," he said, still not moving.

I stared at him for a moment. "Well, I'm going to-Oh, your hair," I said, wetting a clump of paper towels that I'd ripped off of the roll. I bent over him and placed two fingers under his chin to bring his face into the light. "The syrup is too sticky, it mats hair like some sort of intense professional hair spray. Frankly, I'm shocked that Herbal Essences hasn't thought of it," I said, dabbing the wad of paper towels at his forehead, focusing on one clump near his temple.

He laughed and I looked down at those eyes and seeing the humor in them. I gasped when I realized how close I was to his face, I hadn't noticed while I was focusing on his syrup-clumped hair.

"What's wrong?" He asked when he'd heard my surprised inhale.

"N-no, nothing's wrong," I pulled back. "Sorry, hadn't realized that I'd gotten dangerously close to those full lips of yours. I'll go so you can change and whatever you men do when you're alone."

I turned back, sending one last look at him through the mirror. I was about grasp the handle of the door when a tanned hand touched my wrist. His hands were alarmingly warm, sending little, almost ignorable shocks of heat through my spine.

"Thanks," Same said, his big lips pulling back over his teeth in a sweet smile, "Ami with an 'i'."

I smiled back. "And don't you forget, Sam."

"Are you in Glee?"

"Not in this life-time. I can't sing in front of anyone in this school."

His smile faltered for a moment. "Well I'll see you around, then?"

"You can count on it."

His hand scraped through his hair and he removed his hand from my wrist, I felt the loss of the heat instantly. When I walked out of the bathroom, nobody but the Spanish teacher was there, Mr. Scheuster.

"Hello," he greeted cheerily. He must have thought I was there for Glee.

I paused for a moment. "Hi."

He spoke before I could get out of there. "Can I help you with something?"

"Not… really. I'm just going to go."

"Are you sure? If you're interested, we have a spot open for another Glee member. We really need another member and, you know, if you feel any kind of calling." Oh for the love of all that is Marvel comics, turning down these pleas was like shooting a puppy.

"I was just helping Sam out," I said, stealing out the door without eye contact.

The halls were emptied, only a few strays scurrying about on the squeaky floors. I went to my locker to straighten out all of the books on the shelf. My copy of the script for the play I was working on fell out of my locker, spilling open on the floor. I was about to reach down to grab it when a pair of black sneakers stepped in front of it. I followed the sneakers up to the boy attached, McKinley's own Finn Hudson. He bent down and picked up the script.

"Is this yours?"He asked.

"Yeah, thanks," I said awkwardly.

"I saw what you did for Sam. That was really cool of you… sorry, I don't know your name."

"Ami."

"Ami." He looked at the books stacked in my locker and down at my script, flipping it open to reveal one of my monologues. He looked back up. "Are you in the theatre club?"

"No, reading plays is a passion, not a skill."

"Is that why the main character's lines are all highlighted and underlined?"

I paused. "Pretty much."

"If you say so," he said. "Thanks for sticking up for Sam."

"Any time, bro. Any time."

Finn walked off then and I gathered everything into my backpack. Slinging it over my shoulder, I walked off to the auditorium. Nobody was there at this time, it was a Thursday. Glee, auditions, and assemblies were the only use for the whole room and all three of those happen on Fridays. My phone rang in my pocket. I took it out and checked the caller ID.

Pressing connect, I said, "I'm here."

"I've been waiting for you!" I heard from the other side of the room before hearing it echo through my speakers. I saw Blaine walk out on the stage and made my way down one passageway. "What took you so long?" He'd asked when I got up to the stage.

"Saving the world, one new kid at a time."

"Are you up for practice then, Wonder Woman?"

I responded by walking to the other side of the stage.

o.O.o.O.o

Rehearsal had gone pretty well, it was just us two there. Blaine left when he got a Warbler Warning from Reed back at Dalton. They called Warbler Warnings when their Glee club had gigs or problems. It's kind of the most important text message I've ever seen on that hunk of plastic. He left an hour before I got the chance to go. The last bell rang and I was looking for someone in the hall to talk to or catch a ride from. Nobody looked. Nobody looked but an arm did plant itself onto the locker next to me. I followed that arm up into blue eyes, half covered with blond hair.

"Hey," he said, pressing his weight into the arm that rested against the tacky blue metal.

"We meet again."

"I kind of wanted to talk to you," he said nervously.

"I can talk." I closed my locker and leaned up against it.

"I'm not as much of a shy and quiet freak as I seemed today."

"You didn't seem like a freak. I was the one who seemed like a freak."

"And why was that?"

"I didn't exactly give you a chance to speak what with my Mel Gibson-esque fail to shut up."

He laughed. "It wasn't that bad, you just don't like quiet, I don't much like it either."

"Well, as long as I didn't embarrass myself too much."

"You know, Mr. Scheu asked me about you when I came out of the bathroom." I swung my backpack over my shoulder and pushed off of the locker.

"Really?" I asked, taking one step back to convince him to walk with me down the hall.

"He seems to think that you coming into the room is some kind of sign from the gods," he said, watching his feet and curling his hands into his pocket.

"I hate disappointing him, have you seen his hopeful face? It's sad, like a limping kitten."

He laughed. "Or a penguin with one of those radios in its back."

"Exactly," I agreed with a giggle.

Everybody was running around outside with their jackets pulled over their heads, the girls squealing and grabbing onto their boyfriends. "It's raining," he said.

"You're incredibly perceptive."

"Where's your car?" He asked, noticing that every bus had left.

"Other side of the parking lot," I said, gesturing loosely to the end of the row.

"Mine's the light green sedan over there," he said, pointing. I looked up at his with a smirk. "It was my mom's."

"If you say so," I laughed. "Oh, I forgot something in Spanish. I'll see you later."

"Okay, later then." He walked away and I went back inside the school, lingering by the door while I watched him drive away. I sighed when he'd driven through the light and pushed the door back open, starting my walk home.

o.O.o.O.o

Trig was never my favorite class but I'd never had as much trouble focusing as I had today. I'd always been good at math, in fact. It'd never been my serious strong point but it'd also never been my downfall. It was even fun sometimes but seriously, I couldn't stand one more second of it today. I glanced at the clock, four minutes left, oh hell. I planted my face in my hands and closed my eyes.

"Miss Davis, what is the answer to question number eight?" My Trig teacher called to me. She gestured for me to come up and write the answer on the board. I dragged myself up to the front and grabbed the marker on the way up. I was in a haze for the whole thing, when I'd looked back at the board I saw, in my handwriting, the correct answer: sin(x/2)=|AC|/|AB|=t/sqrt(1+t^2) cos(x/2)=|CB|/|AB|=1/sqrt(1+t^2).

"Very good," she said, taking the marker back when I'd walked past her. I ran my hand through my hair and looked up. In the very back of the room and to the far right sat Mister Distraction himself: Sam. When did he start my trig class, scratch that, how did I not notice him in trig before? I flicked my eyes off of him before anyone noticed it.

That torturous bell rang after the next few minutes. Lunch time, I got up to gather my stuff when I saw a hand go down to grab the pencil that'd rolled off the desk.

"Thanks," I said, taking it from Sam's hand.

"Yeah," he said awkwardly, lounging against the desk when I grabbed the rest of my things. I looked up at him, noticing his shirt.

"Green Lantern?" He looked down and then back up at me in curiosity. "Well," I said, "at least it's not Aqua man. Aqua man sucks."

"You recognized the Green Lantern's sign?"

"Is there anyone on Earth that doesn't? If there is, I don't think that I can go on if they don't."

"I think you'd be surprised, Ami with an 'i'."

"You're not very creative with your nicknames there, Sammy."

"Sammy? You sound like my sister."

"You have a sister?" I asked, dodging some taller juniors.

"Yeah, Stacy. I have a little brother too, Stevie."

I laughed. "Sammy, Stacy, and Stevie? Cute."

"Yeah, your parents aren't the only crazy ones. My dad's name is Stan, too." He laughed once and looked down at me.

"And Mommy is Sandy, Sheila, or Shelly?"

"Lucy, actually. She's the odd one out," he said. He lazed on the locker next to mine while I loaded everything in.

"Lucy, Stan, Sam, Stacy, and Stevie? All blond and blue eyed. Damn, you're the prefect American family."

"Well, what about you? What's your family like?"

"My aunt," I said, not looking at him.

"Just you two?"

"Just us two." I shut my locker and folded my arms across my chest.

"Sounds spacey, much better than my house."

"Don't say that," I said, "I've always wanted siblings."

"Would you like to take mine?" He asked. "It's not all that it's crack up to b-" His pocket started to buzz and he looked down at it, not moving his hand.

"You gonna answer that or do you just like how it feels in your pocket?"

"Ha-ha," he said, taking out the phone and sliding it to answer. "Hello?" He asked, sliding a hand through his hair. I stared at him and his eyes flicked through the hallway like he was focusing on something important. "Stacy, why aren't you calling mom?" He paused for a few moments, looking at the clock. "Okay, well did you try her cell phone?" Pause. "Stace, you're seven years old. You can't walk home by yourself." He sighed. "All right, I'll pick you up when I'm done with school. Stay there, do you hear me?" Pause. "Okay," he looked up at me and said as just a breath, "love you too." He slid his touch screen to hang up.

"Well that was adorable," I said.

"The fact that my sister just tried to convince me to let her walk two miles to get home or the fact that she thinks she's adult enough to call me in the middle of school?" He asked, laughing. We started walking towards the cafeteria.

"No, that you love your little sister. That's so cute, she sounds so sweet!"

"You can come with me to pick her up, you know."

"She won't think that that's weird?" I asked, raising one eyebrow.

"She's heard of you." A slight pink tinged his cheeks.

"That's not creepy. We've only been friends for a week or so."

"She looked over my shoulder on Facebook. She read some of that chat on Tuesday, by the way." He smirked at me.

I glared at him. "She probably can't even understand what I said."

"It's not my fault that you have such a dirty mouth," he teased.

I pushed him playfully. "I didn't say anything dirty, and you know it."

He raised his hands like I had him at gun point. "If you say so."

"Shut up before I make you," I joked, though I knew that if it came down to it, he could probably throw me over his shoulder without any kind of trouble. Scratch the probably.

"I'd like to see you try, sweetheart."

"Don't tempt me, baby girl," I said, fake punching his shoulder and stepping away from him.

"Abuse," he called. "Verbal and Physical abuse!" It took him two steps to reach me and reach around my waist, making me stop.

I shrugged off his arm, though it was probably obvious on my face that I didn't want to. "What?" I asked.

"I need help on something for Glee," he said.

"As long as I'm not singing," I told him, eying him suspiciously.

"Yeah, yeah. You're too scared to sing in front of a kid in Glee club. I know I'm fantastic at singing but you shouldn't be so intimidated."

"Oh yes, you're a regular show tunes master. Maybe we should change your name to Ke$ha? You kind of look like her, don't you?"

He pushed me in the direction of the choir room that Glee used. When he sat me down on one of the chairs, he walked into the back of the room and pulled out a guitar case.

"Planning to serenade me there, hot shot?" I asked as he pulled out his acoustic and pulled a chair in front of me.

"Jealous that I play guitar and you can't?"

"I've played guitar for," I counted back, "four years, I think. Who's jealous now?"

"Five years," he said, starting to strum.

"Well what are you going to play me, Ringo?"

"Depends, are you going to help?" He asked, gesturing to the other guitar.

"No, no I'm not," I said stubbornly.

"Okay then, I guess I'll sing something else."

He started to play more fluid notes on his guitar with this concentrated face. I'm pretty sure my breath caught when he first started to sing. I never really pictured a football player being so good at singing and playing guitar, no offense to Puck or Finn. But Sam played so well. It was beautiful, he was beautiful. The way his eyes closed when he sang, the way his big hands moved expertly over the strings. I had the overwhelming urge to reach out and touch him, to smooth the line between his eyebrows with my fingertips, to press my lips to his with the lightest of barely there touches. But I didn't, couldn't, do that. We were friends, how could I ruin that, what if I did ruin that, what if the thoughts I had now ruined it? Was he thinking the same things that I was? He couldn't be, there were so many girls that he'd be much better for him, so many girls that wanted to be better for him. Girls like Quinn, he should be with her. He should want to be with her, regardless of her superiority complex. But even knowing that, I couldn't push the thought of touching him, just once, out of my mind. And if he accepted that touch, maybe he'd want to touch me back. That obviously wouldn't happen, I probably have that thing for the tortured artist act that most teenage girls have. But when he stopped singing and opened his eyes slowly, the blue going straight into my green, I thought for a moment that maybe, just maybe, there was a chance that he felt the same way that I did. A light pink dusted his high cheekbones as he put down the guitar. He sat forward on his chair and smiled at me. I moved to the end of mine and stared at him.

"That was…" I trailed off when the smile left his face. He leaned forward infinitesimally and swallowed visibly. I leaned towards him, caught by the moment, and when he didn't say no, I leaned in further. He did the same and I felt the smallest touch of his fingertips on my knee. My hand moved to his blond hair, twisting just at the bottom of it. And when his face turned, the edges of our mouths just about to touch, the bell rang and the halls filled. The bell seemed to wake Sam up from this trance and knocked him back in his chair. He stared at me with bewilderment and, if I wasn't mistaken, a bit of disappointment. After a moment of neither of us saying anything, I heard conversation flood into the room. My eyes flitted to the door over Sam's shoulder. Disappointment washed over me fast when I saw Finn and Rachel walk in. Rachel hung on his arm and talked animatedly about something I didn't care to listen to. I closed my eyes and blew out a long, silent breath.

"Oh," Rachel chirped. "Hello, Ami."

"Hi," I said, getting up and starting to walk out.

"Ami," Sam called, sounding slightly strangled from behind me.

I looked back at him from over my shoulder. His eyes looked confused but they burned into mine. Mr. Scheu walked into the room and smiled at me. "Back again?" He asked cheerily, unaware of my now bad mood. "Do you have a class this hour?" I shook my head. "Why don't you stay here then? Just for today? We'll show you what Glee club is about." Not wanting to turn him down, and not having anything else to do, I walked back to the seat I'd been in before. I didn't look at Sam when he sat down next to me, though my eyes begged me to. He seemed stiff and too still to be comfortable. Tension oozed from him, and I'm sure from me too.

Rachel and Finn sat down in the row behind us and held their own conversation. Mr. Scheu rustled around with his music. Sam turned to me and I glanced up at him. "Look," he started.

"Don't, Sam. Just… don't."

He paused. "Come with me to pick up Stacy."

I looked up at him, he seemed to sincerely mean that. "Okay," I whispered, clasping and unclasping my hands. I saw his eyes go down to them, probably noting the white knuckles. Before he could say anything else, everyone else in Glee club walked in. Most of them hadn't noticed me in their love-sick puppy phases. Santana seemed to notice me, but she was staring at Puck in one of her inner-monologue moments. I was used to the not being noticed thing, I went inside my head and stayed there, what's new?

"All right, guys. Quiet down," Mr. Scheu said, waving his hands up and down, rustling the papers in them. "Time for class. Tina, Mike, cool it." I glanced back to see them dislodging their tongues from each other's throats.

"Mr. Scheu," Rachel called, raising her hand and leaning forward, "I was just wondering, with nationals in a few months, have you chosen the song that Finn and I will be singing?" A few people sighed with annoyance and rolled their eyes.

"Actually, Rachel, we haven't decided if you would be the two to sing the solos," he said, trying to keep a smile on his face.

"Mr. Scheu," she said again, "Finn and I have provably better solos. Let's be honest here, we can all agree that we have the best chance of winning nationals if _we_ are the ones singing the solos and everyone else is swaying behind us. Swaying can be fun, I love you guys so much that I think that this is the best thing for us to do!"

"Oh, please, Rachel. Don't pretend that you're doing this for anything other than your own selfish spotlight," Santana said. "Let's be real, she's just trying to keep the lime light and she'll only end up stealing all of our gold."

"Okay, Santana," Mr. Scheu said, "settle down. Rachel, let's give some other people a chance to have a solo, have auditions, maybe? But nationals are months away. This week is now, so let's focus on now." He walked off to the piano, set down his sheet music, and pulled a white board across the room. Grabbing a marker, he swiped it across the board. "And speaking of now," he said, "we have guests today. Two of them, actually," he said, looking at me for a moment. I looked up at the board and he'd written variety on it, whatever he was getting at I wasn't sure. He walked

"Who is she, anyway?" Santana asked. I looked over at her, she had her right eye brow raised and her arms crossed over his chest.

"She's Sam's girlfriend," Finn said.

"Yeah, Ami, right?" Mercedes asked.

"My name's Ami, but I'm not his girlfriend."

"Ami Davis, spelt with an 'i', not a 'y'," Mercedes said.

"There's a village in France called 'Y'," Brittany said. Everyone looked at her like she was crazy.

"That's actually true," I said.

"You're not Sam's girlfriend?" Quinn asked.

I turned around to see her in her little Cheerios uniform, hazel eyes batting at me. She smiled an eager smile, she probably thought Sam was hot. Good, I guess, I should be happy for him. That is, I would have been if we hadn't almost kissed just now. "No," I said, shaking my head slowly.

"Oh, Blondie is _so_ playing for Team Gay," Santana laughed.

"As offensive as that is," Kurt said, "I have to agree. Look at his hair, I happen to have the gift of knowing when color's natural and when it came from a bottle. No straight boy dyes his hair to look like Twiggy."

"He doesn't look like Twiggy," Quinn said.

"Would you prefer a short haired Taylor Swift?" Kurt proposed.

"I'm not gay," Sam said. "And it's not dyed."

"And I'm Queen Elizabeth," Artie said. Sam rolled his eyes and turned back to the front. He did this just at the moment that heels started clacking on the linoleum.

"Well, well, well. If it isn't my sexy little song birds," a blonde woman said. She stopped in front of everyone, folded her fingers, and smiled. She was dressed in a turtleneck and a chic skirt. She whipped her blonde hair back. "Two new members?" She looked between Sam and me a few times. "Holly Holiday," she said, looking at Sam, "who are you?"

"Sam Evans," he said, shaking her hand.

"Ami, good to see you've found somewhere to fit yourself in. Knew Glee club would be your thing," she said to me, pulling me in for a familiar hug.

I began to panic. They weren't supposed to know about this, not supposed to know about why Holly and I were acquaintances, maybe even friends. I took the hug opportunity to whisper in her ear. "Don't. Say. Anything," I said. She nodded almost imperceptibly. When she pulled back, I smiled at her. "Not a member, no laminated card today. You know singing in front of people isn't my style."

"Oh, Ami, when will you learn?" She stepped back and turned to the rest of the class. "So I see Scheuster over here took the opportunity to write on his big boy board. Well, that's not really my style, wouldn't you agree?" She launched into her lecture about how everyone is different and individuality is important.

Sam leaned over to me and whispered in my ear, "What was that?"

I closed my eyes, trying to enjoy the feeling of his breath washing over my face again, sure to be one of the last times. "What was what?"

"The hug and the Glee club being your thing."

I pushed my hair behind my ear, the sensitive skin over the back of my hand brushing his cheek on the way down. "I don't know, she was my sub a while back. We talked once or twice, no big deal."

"It looked like you two knew each other better than that. Looked like you've talked more than once or twice," he said. I turned my face to look at him. Wow, he was close, so close. I could just move forward a few inches and touch my lips to his. Really, that's all that I'd been thinking about for the last few days. His lips were just so big and looked so soft and inviting. Damn, he had me hooked. I was way too far into this infatuation with his lips; I needed to get out if he was going to be my friend. He should be with someone else, at the very least deserved someone else, someone who doesn't lie to him every time she sees him. But damn, if those lips didn't haunt me. I was so close to touching them today, it would have been a mistake, but it would have been a beautiful mistake. After I realized that I'd been staring at his lips for a good seven seconds, I looked up in his blue eyes. I could see Quinn staring at us through the corner of my eye but that faded when I really focused on his blue. Such a unique blue color, I'd never seen anything so beautiful. Well, other than maybe him as a whole.

"Looks can be deceiving," I whispered. And if those words weren't true, I wasn't sure what in this word was.

**So I hope that that wasn't too fast moving. I would have uploaded this yesterday but something really terrible happened and I didn't get much of a chance until today. So thanks for reading and I can't wait for your review.**


	2. Chapter 2: Tricking

"Check you later," Holly said, waving to everyone at the end of Glee. Everyone was already up, due to singing and dancing, so they just started to flood out, giving a high-five or two to Holly and Mr. Scheu. I unfolded my arms from around my legs and stood up when Sam walked over. He put his hand out and bowed, like he was requesting a dance.

"You're such a nerd," I said, rolling my eyes and laughing before grabbing his hand. He tugged me forward. When we were about to walk out, Holly called me over to her. Sam told me it was okay and he would wait until whatever she wanted was over.

"Alright, Ami," Holly said. "I want to know why you're not on this Glee club."

"Because," I said, taking a seat on the stool.

"Oh, you know whatever reason is just because you're scared to have a little fun. You've always been scared of fun, Ami. You do everything until it's perfect and you don't even let yourself enjoy it." She leaned up against the piano and settled into it, like she was getting ready for a long talk.

"That's not true, you know that's not true."

"Really? Because this is the first time I've seen you laugh in, honestly, I don't even know how long," she said.

"What do you mean this is the first time?"

"I saw how you looked at that Sam kid."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Honey," she said, "I'm not one of those clueless high schoolers, I know you. And I know that I've never seen you smile like that before."

"Look," I got off the stool and started to walk backwards to the door, "I don't want to talk to you about _boys_, Holly. And, to be honest, I don't really want to talk at all right now. I don't want to talk about Glee, I don't want to talk about Sam, I don't want to talk about singing, and I don't want to talk about what you think I should do with my high school life. So, if you don't mind too much, I'm going to go because my _friend_ Sam is waiting out there."

"Ami," she called as I walked further away from her. I looked back over my shoulder to see her looking not too upset but, if I wasn't mistaken, a bit prideful. I opened the door, took a step out, and clicked it shut behind me. I leaned back and banged my head against the door once.

"Tough room?" Sam asked, leaning on the locker across the corridor and shutting his phone.

I scrubbed my hands at my face and smiled at him. "You could say that."

"Do-do you still want to go and get Stacy?" He asked, ducking his head. I would have said something about how adorable he was or something sarcastic, but after the whole almost-kissing thing, I couldn't really do that while he was all… vulnerable looking. So I didn't say anything, just nodded, and walked over to him. He smiled down at me like he was feeling awkward. It was pretty damn cute.

o.O.o.O.o.

"So…" Sam said after half of the drive to the elementary school.

"So…?" I asked.

"We almost kissed."

"Yeah," I said, looking out the windshield to avoid looking at him.

"I didn't think-mean, I didn't mean to do that." I pulled my legs up and wrapped my arms around them. "Look," he said, driving into the parking lot. He paused and leaned over, touching his fingers under my chin and pulled it up so that I had to look him in the eyes. "I'm sorry," he said slowly.

"Why, why are you sorry?" I whispered, moving my eyes from one of his to the other.

"Because that's not what you wanted."

"What makes you so sure?" I asked, eyes going down to his lips. I leaned forward just an inch. A sudden burst of confidence started to flow through me and I moved one hand to his neck, fingertips just brushing his skin.

"Ami, you don't have to-"

"I want to," I said, moving forward again. I could feel his hand slide over my waist, curling into my back.

"Seriously, if you're doing this for me-"

"Shh," I said, smiling at him. I moved my thumb over his bottom lip, watching him shiver. I smiled wider before leaning in further, ready to just get this first kiss thing over.

When our lips were so close that I could almost feel them, Sam threading his hand through my hair, a sudden wave of young yelling busted out of the door. We both turned our heads toward the front door of the school, seeing kids weave themselves through the crowd, making their way to the busses. A short blonde started skipping towards us, wearing a purple checked dress and a pink backpack. I moved away from Sam the second I saw her. She smiled when she saw Sam and skipped up to the back door of the car. He closed his eyes and sighed as he unlocked the doors.

"Hi, Sammy!" She said in one of those little girl voices that matched her blonde pigtails and pink backpack.

"Hey, Stace," he sighed. He turned the key and looked at her in the rearview mirror. "Seatbelt."

I felt hands grab the back of my chair and pull. Next thing I knew, a small face was right next to mine.

"Hi," Stacy smiled. I backed up and turned to her. "I'm Stacy!" She pushed her hand towards me in the air.

"Ami," I said, taking her hand loosely and shaking it once.

She turned over to Sam and smiled wider. "Is this your girlfriend?" She asked.

He looked up at me and blushed. I crossed my arms over my chest and lifted my eyebrows, silently asking him why he was hesitating. He looked down at Stacey and shook his head slowly. "No," he said, "Ami isn't my girlfriend." I looked out the windshield and gnawed on my lip. "Put your seatbelt on."

Stacey huffed and sat back in her seat, grabbing the seatbelt and stretching it over herself. The ride was short, only Stacy talked, recounting every second of her day. When the neighborhood started to surround the car, I studied it with true interest. All the houses looked similar and different at the same time, most of them were shades of blue, all of the yards had variations of bushes and plants scattered around on them, and every yard had trees covering parts of it. It was like one of those neighborhoods you'd see in movies, where there were large trees spaced five feet apart for as far as you could see, canopying the road. Mailboxes were posted every four houses, fire hydrants every three, barely any cars parked on the road, garages separate from the houses and on the alley way that ran through the back. Sam slowed about half way down the street, stopping at one of the houses. It was a light yellow with a white door, bushes covering half way up the picture windows on either side of the porch steps. Sam took the keys out of the ignition and unlocked the doors, letting Stacy run out and into the house. He drummed his thumbs on the steering wheel and chewed on his lip.

"Do you want to, uh, come-come inside?" He asked.

"Sure," I said.

He tapped his thumbs a few more times before unclasping his seatbelt and opening his door. I did the same to my door and seatbelt, hesitating for some reason I couldn't place before closing the door. I made my way around the car, fists jammed into my pockets to keep them from clasping and unclasping nervously. The beep of the car locking almost made me jump when I'd gotten to Sam. He still had his bottom lip trapped between his teeth. I had the odd urge to place my thumb on his chin and dislodge it, but of course I didn't actually do that. It would be way too couple-y for me to actually do. And Sam and I were _not_ a couple, no matter what anyone in Glee seemed to think. I probably should have just gone home and not picked up Stacy with him. Whatever, too late now.

He looked at me like he was going to say something, thought better of it, and started to walk forward. When I followed him, he turned to me again. "So, my parents are at work but I'm sure that Stevie's home from school."

"Okay," I said, offering him a small smile. He returned the gesture, opening the door for me. "You're really too gentlemanly, you know. Girls are going to fall all over you if you stop thinking they have cooties."

"Maybe that's what I want, hmm?" He joked.

"Not denying you still think we have cooties, I see. Interesting," I said, looking around the entry way of the house. From where I was, I could see into the kitchen, the living room, and a small room just off the entry that held jackets and shoes. The closest thing to the door was the staircase that lead to a hallway, I assumed there were bedrooms up there.

"Cooties? The last time I heard about cooties... last week. But my sister's six with two older brothers. So that wasn't my fault."

"Sure, baby. Sure."

"Wouldn't that mean that I would have cooties? I mean, girls can barely keep their hands off this. There would have been some cootie-contractions."

"Well," I said, following him into the small side room to take my shoes off, "I find that hard to believe because you're a Starwars nerd, you speak Na'vi, you're obsessed with comic books," we reached the top of the stairs and went down to the third room in the hall. He opened to door and ushered me in. "And you have… superhero bed sheets." I smiled and shook my head.

"Uh, yeah. I didn't know that you were going to come over, I would have changed those," he said, blush covering his cheeks as he went to go straighten the almost nonexistent wrinkles on the comforter.

"Why would you do that?" I asked, leaning against the doorframe.

"Because it's really sad that I sleep surrounded by the justice league?" He said, making the statement a question.

"But it's you."

He stopped messing with the bed and looked up at me. "I thought that I was nerdy and too gentlemanly."

"Well, now that I've seen this, it's kind of endearing."

"Really?"

"Really, you still have Justice League bedding and comics pasted up on your walls. How can I not say that it's adorable? You're like a child… with presumably nice abs."

He chuckled. "Maybe if I haven't had any Cool Ranch Doritos that day."

"That your weakness?" I laughed.

"One of them," he said, leaning back on his hands and officially rendering his cover-smoothing basically unnecessary. "So are you going to come in or just stand there? I won't make you read old copies of X-men."

"Well, I'm going to leave if you don't let me read your comics." I took a step into the room, closing the door and seeing the Abbey Road poster tacked onto the back.

"That's your only reason for being my friend isn't it?" I looked up at his smile and came to sit next to him on the bed, taking the opportunity to see the other side of his room.

"You've discovered my secret plot. Damn you and your smarts." He laughed and moved closer to me almost imperceptibly. I felt that heated tension spark between us again. I searched the room desperately for something to talk about. Opening my mouth to comment on his sticker clad guitar case, the door was knocked on. We both started and looked at it.

"Sammy?" A voice called from behind it.

"Come in," Sam said.

A small boy peaked into the room, his blond hair falling into his eyes a little. He blinked his wide blue eyes, one shade darker than Sam's, twice before taking a step inside. He shook his hair in a way that seemed very characteristic for the Evans family and looked between the two of us as we sat on the bed. I realized he probably thought the same thing the Glee club and Stacy thought.

"Mom and Dad called," Stevie said, "they said they wouldn't be home in time for dinner."

Sam nodded and shook his hair. "'Kay, I'll be right down," he said.

Stevie nodded and bit the side of his cheek, walking out the door.

Sam watched him walk out the door, sighing when he noticed the door stayed open. "Sorry," he said, standing.

"That's cool." I stood and smiled when he looked back at me. He walked out with me right behind him. Down stairs, Stacy and Stevie were sitting in the living room watching the Disney Channel and playing.

"Hey, guys," Sam said. "I'm gonna order pizza."

"Again?" Stacy sighed. "We had pizza two days ago." She rolled her eyes theatrically, Stevie did the same.

"Well what else do you propose we do?" He asked.

She frowned and chewed at her little bottom lip. Sam walked into the kitchen and I followed him awkwardly, not knowing what else to do. The kitchen wasn't huge but it definitely wasn't small. The walls were all painted a light yellow and the cabinets were a perfect white, matching the island in the middle of the floor. He walked over to the counter where the phone sat, nestled between the fridge and the coffee maker. He reached for it and froze when he felt my fingers rest on his forearm.

"Are you really going to call for pizza?" I asked, shaking my head.

"Uh, yeah," he said, not moving his eyes from my hand.

"Okay, maybe you don't speak kid as fluently as you should, but neither of them are going to eat that."

"So… what are you saying we should do instead?"

"I can cook, Sammy, quite well actually," I smiled. He raised an eyebrow. "Yes, I do know how to cook. Yes, I am incredible. And yes, you may now bow down and kiss my feet."

"Okay, smartass, what can you cook?" He stuck his tongue out at me, making my head go cloudy for a moment.

"What do you have?" I withdrew my hand from his arm and took a step to the side, opening the fridge.

"They like normal things, unhealthy things," he laughed, his head just over my shoulder and peering into the fridge.

"So let's trick them into being healthy," I said, pawing through the top shelf.

"Trick them? How do we trick them?" He cocked an eyebrow.

I laughed, shut the fridge door, and turned around. I was slightly sidetracked by the fact that he didn't move back, his hand was still braced on the granite countertop and his face hovered inches above mine. "You really are all looks, aren't you?"

"As flattering and," he paused, "insulting as that is, I still don't understand."

"Have you ever babysat in your life?"

"Of course I have," he said, still not moving.

I rolled my eyes and moved his hair out of his eyes. "What about babysitting when you actually have to make the food?" I asked, my fingertips still on his temple.

"Not exactly, pizza usually does it," he said. After a moment, he reached up to hold my wrist that rested near his jaw line.

"They had pizza two days ago, Sam, and in all honesty, probably for lunch today at school."

"And, what? They're, like, six and eight. I think that they can handle it." He smiled and slid the hand that was on my wrist slowly up my arm to rest on my neck. "They'll be fine."

"Yeah, I'm not going to believe a teenage boy. They should eat something other than that," I said, focusing on trying to control the goose-bumps he'd erupted on my arm. I swear he did that on purpose.

"Well, are you planning on cooking something? I can't really cook much," He said, staring at my arm before moving his hand to gently brush at it. The bumps multiplied, making me clench my jaw in an effort to control them. He smiled, still staring at my arm, and bit his lower lip. I knew that I should've pulled away—hell, I probably should've left and gone home. His hand didn't stop moving against my skin, even when he took a step forward, making me take one the opposite way and feel my lower back press up against the edge of the counter. His fingertips moved up higher on my arm, going from my elbow to my shoulder.

I swallowed and moved my eyes up to his just as he brushed my hair over my shoulder. My looking up at him gave him more room to cup the side of my neck and slide his thumb over my jaw. I wanted to say something but I wasn't exactly _good_ at romance or anything of the sort. I imagine that he wasn't either, logic justified by his not saying anything and furrowing his eyebrows. So I decided if he wasn't going to do anything, I'd have to put myself out there. I raised one hand to his upper chest, setting it against his collarbone. He took another step forward, his body literally a centimeter away from touching mine. I shivered at his closeness, seeming to distract him.

"Are you cold?" He asked, brow pulling together in worry and breath washing over my face.

I closed my eyes, trying to hide the slight rolling back that they did, and shook my head.

He shook his head and laughed, bringing both hands up to my face. "You're a terrible liar."

"I disagree with your premise."

"You had goose-bumps and you just shivered," he said, taking my hand in his. He tugged on it.

"Who's to say that was because I was cold?" I mumbled.

He either ignored me or didn't hear anything because he just kept walking. We past the living room where I saw both of Sam's siblings staring at us as Sam had his grip on my hand and near-jogged to the steps. I blushed under the feeling of their eyes, even as little kids they seemed to know that something was going on between us. He pulled me up the steps and into his room, kicking the door shut behind us.

He didn't let go of my hand until he'd yanked open the closet door and started riffling through the hanging clothes. He had a lot of dress shirts, I mean _a lot_ of dress shirts. Though I had no idea why he had them, picturing him in them was pretty damn hot. He got to the back of the closet where he kept the sweatshirts.

"Pick one," he said, gesturing to all of the sweatshirts. He raised one eyebrow and bit his lower lip. He looked at all of the sweatshirts and watched me, seemingly curious as to which one I would pick.

"I'm fine," I said quietly, although the idea of wearing his sweatshirt was pretty great.

He rolled his eyes and reached over to a white hoodie that hung near the middle of the row. He handed it to me and laughed when I stared down at it.

"It's not going to bite you, just put it on," he said.

I gave him a look before putting my arms through the sleeves and slid it over my head. Goodness, this sweatshirt _swallowed_ me! The seam that connected the cuff to the sleeve dangled past my fingertips and the bottom was just under my butt. I caught a glimpse of the back in the mirror behind me. '_Evans'_ was printed across the top and a big old '_6'_ was covering the back. I gasped and looked back at him.

"If your family sees this, I will kill you," I said, narrowing my eyes at him.

"Why, I don't know what you mean," he smiled.

"You only picked this sweatshirt because your name is plastered across the back, didn't you?" I asked, crossing my arms over my chest.

"Well, if you're only here for my comic books and adorable siblings, I should get something too."

"I'm not cold," I said stubbornly. He laughed and reached out to untangle my arms and push the sleeves back over my hands. I did have to admit that I kind of liked this couple mood that he was in, it was extremely adorable. He reached down and held both of my hands.

"I like you like this," I said, blushing.

"Like what?" He asked, trailing one hand up to hold the side of my neck gently.

"I don't know, just this."

He leaned down and put his forehead on mine, his lips so damned close to me I could almost feel them. I looked down at them and closed my eyes, drinking in his closeness as much as I could. I could feel the involuntary parting of my lips from anticipation and he moved his hand back to twine with the hair just behind my ear. I wrapped my arm around his waist, pressing my fingers into his back between his shoulder blades to urge him forward and kept a firm grasp on his other hand.

"We shouldn't do this," he whispered, taking his hand out of mine and putting his arm around me, forcing me closer to him. We were so close even our knees were touching.

"Why not?" I breathed, fisting the sides of his letterman's jacket and tugging on it.

"Because I don't want to ruin this." He tucked my hair behind my ear and looked into my eyes.

"What are you talking about?"

He sighed. "I know we've only known each other for a couple weeks but we're friends, Ami, we're good friends."

I let go of him and yanked his arm from around my waist. "Yeah, and?"

"Ami," he stepped forward and pushed my hair from my face again. I slapped his hand away. "Ami, if we do this and it ends badly, what if we aren't friends anymore?"

"Who the hell says it's going to end badly?" I asked.

"I'm not saying it will. I'm just saying it might," he defended, putting his hands palm out in the air.

"Sam," I said, rubbing my forehead with my middle finger and my thumb, "what do you want me to tell you? That I don't want to do this? I do, Sam, I really do. I don't understand why you don't."

"How in the hell did you get the impression that I don't? I almost kissed you at _least_ four times today," he said, seeming to start to be angry. I heard the sound of a door opening downstairs and heels clacking against the hardwood in the entryway. After that, I heard the talking between two little kids, a woman, and a deep voiced man. Sam's parents must have gotten home earlier than expected.

"Actually, _I_ almost kissed _you_ four times today. All you did was sit there and wait for it like a scared little schoolgirl."

"Are you freaking kidding me? That's _rich_, Ami, seriously that's golden. All _you_ did was freeze up, blush, and wait for me to kiss you. All you ever do is wait for _me_ to do what _you_ want me to do? Why don't you just tell me what you want for a change, huh? Tell me what the hell you want! 'Cause I don't know if you know this, but I'm not Professor X, I can't read minds, baby."

"You already know what I want, Sam, and you just said 'no' to it. So if you will dismount your damned high horse and stop being such a dick, well, maybe you wouldn't be so nervous to find out what _you_ want," I said, my voice rising to a pitch normally only dogs would be able to hear. I heard the woman stop speaking downstairs and more heel clacks on the hard wood, reminding me not to full on scream at him.

"I know what I want," he growled, grinding his teeth together.

"You obviously don't." I laughed without any humor and tore his sweatshirt over my head, throwing it at him. He caught it before it dropped from his chest and clenched an angry fist around it. "You know, if you did, you wouldn't be flirting with me one second and screaming at me the next. All you ever _do _is send me mixed messages. Ugh, you're so fickle, do you even realize that? You flip flop every other second and I am so _sick_ of your hot and cold shit."

"I know what I want," he repeated louder, throwing the sweatshirt at his bed.

"Then tell me, Sam." I took a step closer to him, which also meant taking a step closer to the door.

He looked down, his angry eyes locking with mine. Though I'd be damned if I said I could look away. He took a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment before opening them and staring down intensely. "I want you," he said.

I looked between both of his stunning blue eyes, going from one truth holding pool to the other. "I want you too," I whispered.

"But," he hesitated, his voice shaking slightly, "I don't want to want you."

"What?" I said, my jaw falling slack the tinniest bit. At the same time I said that, I heard the door bust open.

"Sam honey, we're ho—oh, hello there." I turned to see a tall, thin, heel-clad, woman standing in his doorway looking at me, her long blonde hair slung back in a ponytail, bits of it falling over her forehead in perfect side-swept bangs.

I halfheartedly smiled at her, mumbling some unimportant greeting. I turned around, careful not to look at Sam, and grabbed my backpack where it leaned against his bed. "I was just leaving," I said, looking at his mother.

"Oh, are you sure? We ordered pizza, it should be here any minute. You should stay and have dinner," she insisted.

I bit my tongue, not wanting to say anything to Sam yet. "Thank you. Really that's very sweet, but I should go."

A tall blond man appeared in the doorway and smiled at me, looking back to Sam and cocking his head to the side. "New girlfriend?" He asked happily.

"No," I said to him. I looked at Sam's mother again. "I'll just be going then." They both moved out of the way of the door.

I took a step forward, intending to leave the room. But before I could walk any further, I felt a hand encase my wrist.

"Ami, wait," Sam said.

I twisted my torso back to him. And when I didn't find the ability to look at his eyes, I settled for staring at his chest. Damn him and his gray shirt that cut off just perfectly to show off his collarbones. What was it with me and loving those? That is so weird.

I waited for him to say something, anything. To take back what he'd said before or to tell me to stay, at this point I didn't really care which. But he was silent, and he stayed silent. I pulled my hand back from him, not surprised in his reluctance to let it go.

"Bye," I said, tightening my hold on my backpack and walking out of the room. I could feel his parents looking at me, not that I cared at all. They must have turned back to him because I heard his mother ask what that was about, probably thinking I was out of earshot.

He still said nothing.

I took the stairs slowly, one after the other at an increasingly sluggish pace. Was I waiting for him to come after me? I didn't know, I didn't really know much. All I did know was that he wanted not to want me. And that was enough to know that we couldn't be together any time soon, maybe we never would.

I heard his little siblings come clambering into the hallway.

"Are you leaving?" Stacy asked me, her big blue eyes staring up at me.

"Yeah," I said, running my hand over the back of his little blonde head.

"I'll see you later, right?" Stevie asked.

"We'll see," I said, slipping my shoes on and pulling them over my heel.

"Okay," he said, staring at the ground.

"Bye bye, Ami!" Stacy smiled.

"Bye," I said, returning her smile with one I was positive didn't reach my eyes.

I pushed open the storm door and walked out onto the porch. The pizza delivery car was idling on the street and a delivery boy was making his way up the sidewalk. I stepped down the few creaky stairs and left the house.

"Wonder Woman!" The boy called when I'd pasted him.

I turned, meeting familiar golden-brown eyes. "Blaine!"

"Hey, what're you doing here?" He asked, juggling the pizza boxes in his hands to one arm and wrapping the other around my waist. I hugged him back with both of my arms and smiled briefly into his shoulder. He always cheered me up.

"I was just visiting," I paused, not knowing what to call Sam, "this kid in my school, helping him babysit his kid siblings."

"Well, you really are Wonder Woman, aren't you?" He laughed. "I guess that nickname will just have to stick."

I hit him in the shoulder playfully. "I am pretty awe-inspiring," I said.

"That you are, my dear."

I fixed his crooked visor. "I'll see you later, okay?"

"Totally," he smiled.

I watched him as he pivoted and walked further down the path. When he got closer to the porch, I looked at the door. My eyes widened when I spotted Sam watching from the storm door, staring at Blaine near murderously.

"Oh, hell," I said under my breath, turning on the spot and leaving his lawn.

I walked down the street, trying to keep myself from beating my head against any sort of tree or streetlamp that may fall victim to my probable rampage, knowing that I only had to walk a block or two to get to my apartment. I willed myself not to think about Sam, or our fight, or his cute little siblings, or his face during that fight, or how great it felt to wear his sweatshirt, or how perfectly curved his collarbone was, or how fitted his gray t-shirt was, or how he probably had really, _really_ nice abs, and especially not the uncomfortable conversation we would, without the shadow of a doubt, be sharing tomorrow at school.

**I'll see you next time. Looking forward to your review.**

**DFTBA! and Best Wishes,**

**KelseyDockry**


	3. Chapter 3:Listen

**I'll let you read this next chapter but I have one quick note first. I started an original that I will be working on but **_**I will still be writing this**_**. I just had to say that in case you're wondering why I am not updating every week. Also, I have two other FanFictions, if I remember, that I have to work on. But I promise, promise, **_**promise**_** you that I am still working on this.**

**DFTBA and Best Wishes,**

**KelseyDockry**

I'd always thought that the word 'school' was much too nice of a word. You know, like, maybe 'hell' would be more appropriate. And walking down the hallways of 'hell', I find that yes, it is a perfect name. I dodged a few football players and huddled up against my locker, making myself as small as I could. The lock twisted and the door sprung open, revealing my near empty locker. I smiled to myself when I saw the picture of Blaine at one of our old rehearsals. I plucked up my text book and rearranged the stacks of papers solely for the purpose of killing time. My phone buzzed against the top shelf of the locker, startling me.

It was a text from Sam. I rolled my eyes, not even bothering to read it. It was probably the tenth text since I left his house yesterday. I placed my phone back in my pocket, feeling it start buzzing almost automatically, the sudden spouting of music shocking me. That was Sam's ringtone. I growled under my breath, fishing it out of my pocket and hitting the green _connect_ button.

"Yes?" I said, no emotion seeping into the word.

"Ami," Sam said quickly, "look, I just want to talk to you. Will you just listen to me?"

"No, I'm busy," I lied.

"No you're not," I heard beside me. I looked up to see that messy blond halo leaning above me. I disconnected the call, shoved my phone into my pocket, and looked away from him. He reached forward and grabbed my wrist. I yanked it back as quick as I could, glaring up at him.

"What?" I asked.

"I just wanted to talk to you," he said monotonously.

"What, didn't get enough yesterday? Are you planning on rehashing this again?"

"I thought you said you wanted me," Sam said quietly.

I didn't say anything.

"And you call me fickle," he said bitterly, starting to walk away.

I reached forward and caught his wrist, something I expected him to react to. All he did was freeze for a moment and turn to me. "Will you at least tell me why I'm fickle? I told you why you are," I said, pleading with my eyes. He rolled his and took the step back, towering over me so much that I had to crane my neck back to look into his eyes.

"I saw you with that pizza guy yesterday. I'm not stupid, Ami, I saw you hug him and smile into his shoulder."

"Sam, he's just a friend. We hang out sometimes, so what? And besides, you and I aren't together. You don't get to go all pissy because I hugged some other boy. You chose that you didn't want us to be together, I didn't."

"Look," he said, his eyes softening, "I didn't mean what I said yesterday. I mean, I meant that we shouldn't ruin what we are now and I meant that I wanted you, I _really_ meant that I wanted you, but I didn't mean that I didn't want to want you."

I reached up and brushed my hand over his cheek with a sad smile. "Yes you did, Sam," I said quietly. "And that's okay, we can still be friends." I collected myself and pulled out a real looking smile.

He reached up and grabbed my shoulders, an urgent look in his eyes. "Ami, I'm serious. I didn't mean it." He pulled me forward and hugged me. I closed my eyes and settled my forehead against his chest. My arms snaked loosely around his waist.

"Why did you say it then?" I whispered into him after a while.

"Because I'm a scared little boy," he said, smile evident in his voice. I could feel one of his hands in the back of my hair and the other wrapped around and grabbed the side of my waist opposite it.

"Yeah, that's for sure." I looked up at him, my chin still on his chest.

He smiled before looking down at me. "Can I kiss you?" He asked softly.

"Not here, not right now."

He gave me puppy dog eyes. "Why not?"

"Mostly because we're in a school hallway and classes are about to start. Oh, also because we aren't together." I stuck my tongue out at him.

"Not yet," he dropped his hold on me and took a step back, pointing at me with both of his forefingers, "but just you wait."

"I look forward to your attempts to woo me," I laughed, leaning against the locker next to me.

"Oh, I'm a regular Prince Charming, baby. I'll get 'cha," he said, walking away from me.

I watched him disappear into the crowd and the last thing I saw was his blond halo turning the corner. I laughed to myself a few more times before turning back to my locker. Just as I took my hand out of it, I saw another flash up and slam it shut. Turning to the left and looking about an inch or two down, I saw the beaming smile of one Rachel Berry.

"Hello, you are Ami Davis," she said, smile unfaltering.

I raised my eyebrows. "I'm aware."

"I'm here to talk to you about Sam and also Glee club," she told me very fast.

"Um, okay."

She paused for a moment, and I suspected that she only wanted a dramatic effect. When she opened her mouth again, I saw yet another Glee clubber standing there.

"Rachel, don't scare her, she might be our only hope," Kurt said. He stared down at Rachel, his hands balled into fists against his waist where the off the shoulder sweater clung.

Rachel raised one hand palm out to him. "I don't understand _why_ we need to have another member. I mean _honestly_, do you want more competition for solos? We've already got Mercedes and Quinn breathing down our necks for them, do you really want _her_ in that race too? I mean look at her, she looks like freaking Anne Hathaway and those green eyes, she's almost _guaranteed_ to be a fantastic singer. She has that look."

"You're crazy," Kurt said.

As it seemed that they both had forgotten about me, I pushed my bag further up my shoulder and turned ever so quietly. Before I'd gotten so much as seven steps away from them, I felt them both back at my side and curling one of their arms into one of mine. They turned me so I was headed back in the direction of the Glee room.

"As I was saying," Rachel said, "we need more Glee members. And you are just the perfect candidate to sway in the background and sing back up while I am out in the front singing your favorite songs."  
>"And you know what my favorite songs are?" I asked, eyeing her confusedly.<p>

"I can guess."

"Then why don't you take a guess," I challenged.

She studied me for a moment, looking me up and down. "Forget You ."

"Not even a little bit right. Now if you'll excuse me, I'd like to go back and hurry myself off to Study Hall. You know, school is important and shit."

"You don't even need to go to Study Hall," Kurt said, towing me into the choir room. "The teacher is blinder than Ray Charles and she doesn't give a damn if you show up. All the Glee kids in her class just hang out here. You are going to join us."

"Are you kidnapping me? I expect a full ransom note sent out to all of my teachers, complete with newspaper clippings for words. I will cooperate with nothing less," I said. They sat me down on a chair on the bleachers and stared at me. "What?" I asked.

"Yes, Rachel, you're right. She does have that look to her. Must be why Blondie finds her so delicious."

"Excuse me?" I asked, extremely confused and probably blushing.

"Well you are dating Sam," Rachel said.

"No, actually. No I'm not."

"We saw you get into his car yesterday," Kurt said, crossing his arms over his chest. "And then we saw him smother you this morning."

"Okay, it's not how it looks."

"Friends with benefits," Kurt said.

"No!" I put my hands on my face.

"So, what, are you just clueless?"

"Don't you two have classes to go to?" I asked, trying desperately to change the subject.

"Oh, we're in your Study Hall," Rachel said.

"I've never seen you in that class."

"Yes, that's because we're here every day."

Kurt sat next to me and Rachel sat next to him. They immediately started to bicker, giving me the opportunity to pull out my phone and send a quick SOS to Sam.

Right when he texted me, telling me he was on his way, I heard the sound of two pairs of sneakers hitting the hard floor. I looked up at the door and saw Quinn walking into the room with Mercedes on her heel. She tugged at her ponytail viciously, her cheerleading uniform looking like it might burst due to her angry breathing and flailing of her arms.

"I just do not understand, Mercedes. I _do not_ understand!" She huffed. "I thought I'd made the message clear that _I_ called dibs on him. I thought maybe Satan-a might go after him but not anyone else. Does she know what I could do to her? I could _ruin_ her social life, I could _torture_ her!"

"Quinn, maybe she didn't know—" Mercedes tried to reason before Quinn cut her off.

"How is it that _every single guy_ I call ends up being stolen away by some no named freak? I just don't get it!"

"They might not be together. They're friends, you know that."

"Oh, we'll sure as hell find out, won't we?" She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "I just want to have one guy to myself without having to worry about him looking at some other girl. I just want him."

At that point, the door was filled again by Sam. Quinn looked at him and seemed to instantly regain her composure. But he didn't notice her, the only thing he looked at was me, sitting alone and smiling up at him with a look in my eyes that could only be translated as 'get-me-the-hell-out-of-here.'

He cocked a crooked smile on his full lips and came to sit down next to me. I crossed my arms over my chest and shot him a glare.

He smiled wider and raised his eyebrows. "What?" He asked, feigning innocence.

"You know what." I looked away.

"Mad at me because I didn't get you out of here?" He said in a low voice that nearly made me shiver. He put his elbow on the back of my chair and leaned his chin against his hand.

"Yes, as a matter of fact, I am." I leaned away from him and raised one of my eyebrows. "Don't you have a class?"

"Hey, now. If you get to skip, I get to skip."

I rolled my eyes but couldn't help but laugh at him. "I'm not skipping, I was kidnapped. I told them that I would not cooperate until the ransom letter was sent out but I guess I'm just not important enough." I looked at Kurt and Rachel who were now giving each other the silent treatment.

Kurt saw me look at him and studied me again. "I was so right," he said, smiling to himself. "It's all written on your face."

I felt blood rush up to my cheeks, though I'm sure the blush wasn't as noticeable as it felt. Though Sam noticed it because, you know, he pays a surprising amount of attention to me apparently. He flashed me a small smirk and I rolled my eyes.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Kurt," I lied in a surprisingly truthful sounding voice.

"Sure." He smiled knowingly. Standing from his chair, he ran his hands over the front of his sweater and walked over to the now Quinn-less Mercedes.

"What is he talking about?" Sam asked, watching Kurt say something to Mercedes before she glanced over at the both of us.

"Not a clue. They're your friends, remember?"

"Hey, you were the last one talking to them, weren't you?" His smile grew larger.

I rolled my eyes, catching Quinn staring at us. Her hazel eyes made me shift uncomfortably, suddenly realizing that I had more than just her and Sam looking at me. Rachel shot glances with the newly present Finn, Kurt and Mercedes looked every once in a while. Then I realized how almost _everyone_ in Glee was there. Now, at least some of them couldn't have been in my class.

"I thought people in Glee club were supposed to care about school?" I whispered, leaning close to Sam.

"Almost everybody has different study halls. I don't know why but they all seem to get out of it."

"Where are you supposed to be?" I asked sternly, turning my eyes to him and realizing that he was only a few inches from me.

"The nurse's office," he smiled before turning his face towards me too.

I looked at one of his blue eyes and then the other. "Why are we here then? You were supposed to rescue me, my white t-shirted knight."

He shrugged. "Didn't feel like going to class." He paused for a moment. "What are you doing tonight?"

"Sam, I'm going to say this very gently," I grabbed his hand and batted my lashes, "you're my only friend. I am never busy."

"What about this weekend?" He asked, looking at our hands and then back at my eyes.

I paused, remembering Blaine. "Yeah, I'm busy this weekend…"

"Exactly. But what about tonight?"

"I'm free tonight." He smiled hugely at me. "You're almost as cute as your siblings."

When I heard the bell ring, I ripped my hand from Sam's and looked in the direction of the speaker. The club gathered their things slowly and I stood, about to make my way quickly out of the room.

"Ami," Sam said, joining me.

"Yes, Sammy?" One side of my mouth turned up and I looked at my feet as they took me forward.

"You're not free tonight," he whispered in my ear. I felt the warm sparks from his hand on my shoulder.

My smile widened and my eyes met his gaze. "Deal," was all I said.

He smiled just as wide and walked with me out of the room. After I'd opened my locker, his eyes got wide. "Hell," he said, fisting his hair, "my stuff is still in English. Will you kill me if I don't walk you to your next class?"

I rolled my eyes. "Of course not. I don't care." Lie.

"Okay, I'll see you in Trig," he said, walking backwards slowly.

I smiled at him and nodded, watching as he turned and made his way down the hall and around the corner. I shook my head to try and orient myself. After switching out the books that were rendered unnecessary due to the kidnapping that took place earlier, I looked through my bag to try and place what I was forgetting. By the time I'd looked back up to study my locker, a hand flashed up and slammed it shut. Jumping, I followed the hand to a blonde haired, hazel eyed Quinn Fabray. What was with these Glee kids and slamming my locker? This was the third damn time.

"Hi," she said bitterly.

I blinked twice, cocking my head to the side.

"You know why I'm here."

"Actually, no I don't," I said.

Her eyes rolled in a way that still looked threateningly beautiful. "Look," she hissed in a low voice, "he's mine. We're kind of perfect for each other and we might just end up together—that is if you stop strangling my chances to get anywhere close to him."

"Him?" I pretended to be clueless.

"Sam." She shook her head like it was the most obvious thing that'd ever passed her full lips.

"I'm not going out with Sam."

She laughed once. "Maybe you're not going out with him yet. But I'm not an idiot. I know how to use my eyes. You're all over him all the time. Just back the hell off, got it? I called him before your skinny little ass even walked up to him."

"Shouldn't Sam choose who he is interested in even if it's not me or you?"

"I'm singing the duet with him and we are going to start dating. You just need to live with it and let it happen."

"If he is interested in you, he can have you. Trust me, I'm not dating him and I'm not stopping him. However, if he's not interested in you, you should take a hint." Her eyes flashed and I held my hands up in innocence. "I don't know what he's feeling. That is something for you to ask him, not me."

She looked me up and down, landing back on my green eyes. "Back off," she said before leaving. I laughed and rolled my eyes, surprised she bothered. I wasn't one for teenage fights and gossip. She has Santana for that.

o.O.o.O.o

I swiped my hands over my face that was just barely sweaty. Sitting alone in the locker room, I decided it best to change from my gym uniform and put my proper clothes on before school ended. My body, however, decided that that was complete bull shit and I should just stay there and sit on the bench with my iPod in. Who'd know the difference? You know, as someone who loves to run, running a mile as a warm up isn't too bad. It was the fact that the warm up was followed by death-inducing sprints while attached to those cheap-o heart monitors. I swear, it was not my fault that I couldn't get the heart rate up to two-hundred by sprinting from line to line in the gym. Just because my heart is abnormally immune to racing unless a boy is involved does _not_ mean that I should be tortured. Everyone had already changed and left but I decided that catching my breath was more important. Those damn lucky people with the fast paced hearts that got to walk after just a few sprints.

I took out my earphones and turned the music as loud as it could go, making them serve as a sort of quiet speaker. Singing along to the music, I set my hands on my thighs and pushed myself up to stand. Pulling my shirt over my head, I leaned forward and pressed my forehead to the side of the locker, folding the newly discarded shirt. Slipping the gym shorts down my legs, I folded those too and placed them neatly on the bottom of the locker, shirt on top of the pants in the way they always were. I grabbed my shirt, threw it over my head, and lined the buttons that closed the very top. Slipping my jeans on and closing them, I stopped my iPod and along with it my singing. I'd stopped the singing just in time to hear the door of the locker room slam shut.

Leaving the room, my phone rang. "Yes, sir," I smiled.

"Rehearsal reminder," Blaine's voice said. "I know that you forgot."

"I'm on my way now, love," I said, making my way through the crowd.

"So who was that boy?" He asked.

I narrowed my eyes. "Boy?" I asked, my voice flat.

"Come on, Ami. The boy. The one whose house you were storming out of." I could hear the smile in his voice. "He was pretty cute. What happened?"

I rolled my eyes. "Are you really going to pump me for boy information now, Blaine?"

"I was planning on it," he said.

"What about you, any boys?"

"Nope. Now who is this blondie and why are you avoiding talking about him?"

I opened the door to the auditorium door and laced my arm with Blaine's where he stood waiting, hanging up the phone. "I'm not avoiding anything. There's nothing to say." I thought about Quinn this morning. "There's a girl here who thinks she's his girlfriend here who would probably try to scratch my eyes out if I even thought about touching him." I blushed slightly. I was comfortable around Blaine but I never talked about boys with him; or really anyone.

"Better watch those eyes," he laughed.

I furrowed my brows. "What do you mean?"

"We're in Ohio, that blush ain't from no heat outside," he smirked, watching me climb up onto the stage.

"Shut up and sing," I said.

"You know, if we weren't such good friends, I would probably think you're a bitch."

I ignored him, grabbing a guitar and hitting the play button on the radio. The song went really well, I was hitting every note perfectly and didn't mess up the guitar. When I put it down to hit the last and longest note, I closed my eyes and splayed my small hand over Blaine's larger one in the air. The song drifted out and Blaine had stopped the harmony before I expected him to. Stopping the music, I looked at him.

"You stopped a little early. Did I screw the note?" I asked.

Blaine nodded to the back of the auditorium at the same time I heard that voice. "No," I looked to the back of the room and saw Sam sitting in the last chair closest to the door. My jaw dropped and my eyes spread open in shock, my breathing automatically stopped. "You did perfectly." He smiled, standing.

"Blaine," I said, not looking at him, "I'll be… bye."

Jumping off the stage, I half jogged up to Sam who stood at the door. He smiled down at me, running his fingertips down my upper arm. "That was—" he started.

I shook my head slowly. "No," I said.

The smile fell from his face. "What are you—"

"Nobody. Do you hear me? You don't tell _anybody_ about this."

"W—" he looked at Blaine and lowered his voice. "Why? What are you talking about?"

I looked back at Blaine who was watching us with his head cocked to the side and a half smile on his face. I grabbed Sam's bicep and pushed him out the door with me. When I pulled it closed, I looked back at Sam.

"You're amazing." He leaned forward with his hand on the side of my neck.

"No, Sam," I said, taking his hand off of me and stepping back.

"Why do you keep saying that? What is wrong?"

"I told you, you can't tell anybody. Not Mr. Schuester, not Finn, not Kurt, not Rachel, not Quinn. Especially not Quinn."

"Why not? And why especially?" He asked, looking fast between both of my green eyes over, and over, and _over_. Looking at him was like torture.

"Because nobody can know about this. Glee isn't going to happen with me, Sam. And this," I gestured between the both of us, "can't happen. You're singing with Quinn and you're better off with her than me. I'm lying, Sam, to everyone. And I don't want to lie to you or make you lie so let me stop here. Let us stop here."

I turned around, ready to go back into the theater to grab Blaine and go home. Sam walked around me, taking hold of both my stare and the tops of my arms. He looked down at me intensely with blue fire.

"Stop," he said, seriously.

"What?" I pushed out in an exasperated breath.

He took no time to wait, no hesitation, and crushed me to him in a kiss. His lips hit mine insistently, surprisingly gentle and firm at the same time. I gasped before my eyes fluttered shut and I reached up to fist my hands into his hair, the silky strands flowing perfectly in between my fingers. His hands were warm and soft on my back on shoulder as he leaned me back gently. I could feel my heart pound and I was sure I could feel Sam's against my chest. His lips sucked my bottom lip between them and I tightened my hold, trying desperately to pull myself as close to him as I possibly could. When his mouth opened, I did the same with mine. And when he signaled me to let him in, I did as requested, allowing myself to taste him in a way that I'd always really wanted to. I took the opportunity of closeness to slide my hands over his arms, squeezing on his biceps before pressing my fingers into his shoulder blades, feeling the muscles that stretched over his back. Sam's hand slid up to the side of my face and he pressed his lips harder to mine for one delicious, seeing-stars inducing moment before he disconnected his mouth from mine and pressing his forehead against my forehead. My fast and shallow breaths mingled with his in the small space between us. I pressed my lips to his with small kisses once, twice, three times, before putting my forehead against him again. He reached up and pulled one of my arms from around his neck, twisted his fingers with mine and stepped forward, pressing my back into the side of a locker. He took my other hand and held them both down next to our legs.

"Come on," he said. "Let's get out of here."

"Sam…"

"I just want to talk to you, okay?" He pulled his forehead back an inch, his body still against mine.

I shut my eyes for a second. "Okay," I nodded, "okay."

He smiled and tucked his hand underneath my dark hair where it fell over the back of my neck, bringing my lips back to his for a moment. Pulling back, he tugged the hold he had on my hand to get me to follow him.

"So you're skipping school, Sammy?" I asked, watching his back move as he walked.

"So are you," he said, opening the door for me.

"No, I'm being kidnapped for the second time today. What's with you Glee kids and trying to abduct me?"

"I don't know. You're just too good to let you get away. Maybe we see that and can't let you go."

I blushed again, rolling my eyes. "You're such a girl," I said. He opened the door to the passenger seat of his car and laughed. Ducking down, he pressed his lips to mine one more time. Once he was in his seat, he leaned over, took my hand for a moment, and kissed me yet again. "Are you going to keep doing that every chance you get? It's a bit much."

"I was planning on it," he smiled.

I looked at his mouth for another moment before shifting my gaze back to his. Not knowing what to say, I looked out the windshield and waited for him to pull out. He sighed and started the car, leaving the parking lot. I gnawed on my lower lip.

"I just want to talk," he said, opening and closing his hands on the steering wheel.

"I didn't say anything."

"You didn't have to. I can see you, you know."

"What does that mean?"

"You're all stiff and you won't look at me. You're uncomfortable," he stated confidently.

"Do you blame me?"

"Well you don't have to be. Best friends, remember? We talk about comic books. You don't have to feel weird."

"Yeah." I looked out the window and thought about that. 'Best friends'. I don't think we could be called 'best friends' anymore. Because, if my experiences were right, best friends don't make out and then promise to kiss every chance they get. I mean, I wasn't complaining but I kind of wanted to know what this meant. "Where are you taking me?" I asked after a moment.

"Where do you want to go? My place, your place, Lima Bean, Breadsticks. Where ever."

"Coffee," I said, rubbing my hands over my face. "Need coffee."

He laughed quietly and reached over to pry one of my hands from my face. He laced his fingers with mine and held it tightly, his thumb brushing over my hand.

"Just talk," I said.

"Just talk," he confirmed, squeezing my hand softly.

"Fine."


	4. Chapter 4: Paying Attention

Joining the Glee club honestly didn't seem like a bad idea if I only half considered it. Singing was fun and dancing was easy; not to mention, Sam was there. It wasn't like I had a club to go to anyways. I usually just skipped out and went to Dalton. Damn, I was getting sick of only having Warbler friends. Glee could probably fix that. No, no Glee. I only have time for work and school. I don't have time for a club and boy drama. Warblers and work good; boys and clubs bad. End of story.

My phone buzzed when I had that last thought. A text from Sam floated up on my screen.

_Hey,_ it read. _I wanna talk._

I tried to stop the flutters in my stomach and the smile that showed up automatically.

_Listening, _I responded.

It took him a minute. _In person._ A moment later, _Can I come over?_

I hesitated at that one. Was I really sure about him; was he really the one boy I'd share every secret with? No, not every secret. Maybe I'd just tell him some. But I didn't want to lie to him. Actually, I wasn't sure I _could_ lie anymore. I already told him some lies and if he came over, he'd know about that. But the apartment was a big enough secret in itself. I open that door and the door to the rest of them flies off the hinges. Maybe he wouldn't notice the creaking that door made. Maybe I could keep that door closed and he wouldn't notice the little breeze that came from the widow that would open. My metaphorical apartment sucked as much as my real one did. It was lonely and I was lonely. Sam changed that. Screw it, he's coming over.

I sent him the address and he was over in less time than I hoped. I had to talk myself off the couch when he knocked on the door. Walking slowly forward, I opened the door just a crack and looked up at him.

"Hey," he said, smiling widely with perhaps the most gorgeous smile I'd ever seen in my life.

"Hi." I opened the door a bit wider after a moment. His eyes flashed through the room and then landed back on me.

"Are we alone?" He asked in a hushed voice.

I laughed once, remembering what he thought my living situation was. "Yeah," I said. "We're definitely alone."

"Good," he smiled.

"You wanted to talk?"

"Can I come in or do you want to talk in the hall?"

"Oh… sorry." I opened the door all the way and stepped back.

His eyes moved over every detail of the main room. They skimmed over the old television and the beaten up couch that sat across from it, the coffee table keeping them apart. Behind it another table stood and held the vase of dying flowers and the two coasters. Farther back from that was the kitchen only separated by the cutoff of carpet and beginning of tile and a counter making a small entry way. The kitchen table was in the other corner, accompanied by four chairs. None of the furniture matched and all of it looked worn and used. It didn't look like that in a bad way but in a comfortable way. It was kind of like those old cabins that had mismatched furniture to look cozy. The only difference was that it wasn't intentional; it was just what I had.

I watched him take all of that in before he looked back at me and smiled. He didn't look like he was judging or anything like that. He looked like he usually did, like he was just looking at me.

"So," I itched my arm more out of nervousness than need, "what were you going to say?"

He looked from one of my eyes to the other. "Uh, I don't really want to talk about that anymore. I just want to do this." He took another step forward, closing the door with his foot, and put his hands on both sides of my face, bringing my lips to his. His hand slid down my neck, shoulder, and arm until it grabbed under my elbow and pushed me, making me walk backwards until my legs hit the arm of the couch. He lifted me and moved around, pushing my back into the cushions and my head onto the opposite arm. His lips were moving over mine and his hands clutched on my waist. I grabbed at the loose sides of his letterman's jacket, pulling him closer, when his phone buzzed in the pocket. I continued kissing him, reaching in to take the annoying object that was tearing me out of my Sam-haze.

His hand closed around mine when it emerged from his pocket, taking the phone and sticking it in his back pocket. My eyebrows pulled down and I pushed against his chest. When he didn't move, I pushed harder until he did.

"What was that?"

"What do you mean?" He said, rubbing his eyes.

"The thing with your phone. Why did you take it?"

He sighed and moved off of me, sitting up on the cushion on the opposite side from mine. "It's not important."

"Okay, I know we like, just started acting like a couple, but I know you, Sam. What don't you want me to find out?"

He looked back at me for a second. "It's nothing, Am. Just forget it happened."

"You won't look me in the eye. I know what that means with you. I've seen you lie before and you won't look the person in the eyes. That's your tell."

Sam laughed and shook his head. "You really wanna talk about lying?"

That one caught me by surprise. Sam could talk like that, I knew. But Sam never talked to _me_ like that. He was the last one on earth that I expected to go all mega-bitch on me. "Wow," I said, moving back further from him. "Uh, okay. I see how it is."

His hand was on my wrist again, which seemed to be becoming his signature thing. "No, Ami, I didn't mean—Look, it's not a big deal. I just took my phone, whatever."

"You took your phone and then you got defensive. Will you just tell me why? I just want to know what's wrong."

He sighed and closed his eyes. "It's Quinn."

"What about Quinn?" It was obvious. I shouldn't have even asked because the way she looked at him couldn't be missed by someone who was blind. You could practically feel the territorial stare she had on him at all times. I shouldn't blame her, it's been two days since Sam kissed me and nobody knew about it. It wasn't her fault that she liked him. He was kind of deliciously sexy and sweet. Yeah, it wasn't her fault.

"She's been texting me for the past couple days… about Glee club. We're singing together."

That. Bitch.

"Cool," I said.

"I'm not into her."

Leaning forward on the couch, I straightened the books that laid on the coffee table. I figured it would keep my mind and eyes busy. "You could go out with her if you wanted. I mean, we're not officially dating and she's perfect, right? She's head cheerleader, gorgeous, blonde, and she's bound to make you more popular. I mean, you're almost the quarterback."

Sam rolled his eyes and turned to look at me. "I don't care about that, Ami."

"Mhmm," I mumbled, looking at the television that wasn't actually on. Whatever, it made my point that I wasn't going to look at him. He got it.

"I'm just singing with her. Seriously."

"Have you ever seen the way she looks at you? I give you a week before you're with her."

"Hey," he said, reaching forward and taking my chin in his hand softly, tugging it towards him so I had to look him in the eye. "Have you ever seen the way _I_ look at _you_?"

I looked down, touching his wrist with my fingertips. "Not really," I said.

His other thumb slid over my cheekbone. "Maybe you should pay more attention." His lips pressed to one side of my mouth, then the other, before kissing them full on. "I'm only interested in you."

**So that was only one scene, I know. And it was short, but my other chapters were so long that I think it'll be okay, right? I'll be doing NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month) this November. That means that I have to write a 50,000 word novel in thirty days. As you may have guessed, that means that I won't be writing much Fanfiction in that time. I'll get back to you the second that I can though. Please don't hate me. I love you.**

**DFTBA! and Best Wishes,**

**KelseyDockry**


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